Flicker of Light
by caskett-case
Summary: Dark Castle Rumbelle oneshot based on a Tumblr prompt from thedarkonesdearie. The first snow falls, and Belle is in awe and wants to spend the day outside with Rumple. He, of course, indulges her.


_thedarkonesdearie prompted on Tumblr: Rumbelle prompt: back in the Dark Castle, the first snow falls. In Belle's kingdom it snowed very little, so she's fascinated by it. She convinces Rumple to play outside with her, and flirting ensues._

_This is exciting! I haven't gotten to write Dark Castle!Rumbelle yet so here it goes. Also sorry that I suck and haven't written anything for over a month and never updated P&W after I got back from my trip like I said I would. I've lost so much motivation to do anything lately. I figured a little one-shot would be a good place to get the creative juices flowing again._

* * *

With the curtains down and the sunlight bathing the halls of the Dark Castle with light for the first time in what had probably been years, Belle surmised, she couldn't help but take time out from her duties every now and then throughout the day to peer out the windows and enjoy the view. Despite such a harrowing name as "Dark Castle," Rumplestiltskin's estate had several marvelous views of the countryside around it—large, rolling hills and forest to the north and east, where Belle watched the sky paint a beautiful sunrise each morning and tiny houses pebbled together to create a village to the south.

She had been at the castle for a few months now, growing comfortable enough to call it her home and growing very fond of her employer's company. As such, she roamed the vast majority of the castle and had almost memorized the place inside and out, very quickly coming to find that her favorite spot in the castle was, of course, in the library, specifically on a comfortable leather chair Rumple had not-so-secretly placed near the western-most end next to a window that he frequently saw Belle standing at (not that he went up to the library to see her and chat with her often, he would argue).

So one night as she cradled a book in her hands, she peered out the window to see the sun still barely peeking out from the horizon, the sky an ombre of purples and pinks, the glow of the sun casting an deep orange glint on the darkening clouds. It was becoming overcast rather quickly, and Belle couldn't help but notice how chilly it had become. Winter was coming, and November in Avonlea had always been much milder than this. It was yet another reminder of how she longed to be home every now and then, but also fueled the wanderlust and excitement within her brought about by new places and experiences. This was just another way for her to see more of the world, and for that, she was grateful.

But when Belle rose the next morning to begin cooking Rumplestiltskin breakfast and brew him his tea, she was startled to find the sky overcast but brightness still flooding through the windows as usual. The ground was purely white, tiny snowflakes drifting aimlessly from cloud to ground, and she gasped in excitement.

"See something you like, dearie?"

Belle whirled around to see Rumplestiltskin standing a few feet behind her, hands fluttering about flamboyantly as he let out an impish giggle at her surprise.

"Rumple, it's snowing!" she exclaimed, a bright smile that melted his heart lighting up her face.

He cocked his head to the side and studied her for a moment. Had the girl never seen snow before?

Belle noticed the confusion on his face and shook her head slightly and blushed.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "You probably think it's stupid. I just never saw much snow growing up in Avonlea, and even when we did, my father was rather protective and wouldn't let me out too often in it—was afraid I'd catch my death out there."

His lips curled into a smile, and every little bit of darkness in him seemed to dissipate. It was an effect that she had on him that he was quite sure he would never get used to.

But it intrigued him. Just like everything about this girl had intrigued him since the moment he arrived at Maurice's castle and saw her cradling a copy of a book entitled _Her Handsome Hero_ (which haunted him at night whenever his thoughts drifted to Belle—because how could a lovely girl as her ever learn to love a beast like him? Surely what she was after was a handsome hero, and he was neither).

But there was still a part of him that wanted a try because there was a large part of him that longed to make Belle light up the darkness of the castle with her smile.

Rumplestiltskin huffed out a theatrical scoff.

"Nonsense! If you wish to explore the grounds and frolic for a little while, be my guest, dearie."

And there it was. The look that secretly made the Dark One's world go round. He had almost become addicted to making her smile, those pearly white teeth almost as white as the snow falling outside, and those plump pink lips that showed up so often in his dreams—what they felt like, what they tasted like.

On the surface, it seemed so easy. He was one of the most powerful beings in all the realms, and she was a ridiculously attractive young noblewoman. Most women would jump at him for his power.

But Lady Belle of Avonlea was far from most women. So far beyond anything he had ever encountered before that it was almost foreign to think of her by her correct title. She was just Belle. _Just_ Belle and yet so much more. He was a drowning man consumed by darkness, and she was his last flicker of light that he was holding onto.

And so the shy, poor, lame spinner that still resided deep in his heart desperately kept latching onto that smile and all the light among his darkness that it embodied.

Rumplestiltskin had become so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't register Belle calling out to him.

"Rumple? Did you hear me?"

He jerked his head toward her once again.

"I beg your pardon?"

She gave him a funny look as he snapped out of his reverie but didn't pursue the subject, instead saying, "I was asking if you cared to join me outside? I've read about people building snowmen and such, but we never really had enough snow accumulation in Avonlea for me to try it."

His stomach was not doing flips because a pretty girl asked him to play in the snow with her. His heart was not palpitating at the thought of her rosy cheeks and laughter as they trudged through the powder. And he was definitely not attracted to the way she threw around five syllable words in everyday conversation.

He was not bloody smitten with the help.

Who was he to deny her?

Belle looked at him expectantly, awaiting his response, hoping with every fiber of her being that he'd agree. Because as much as she wanted to go enjoy the winter weather, she didn't want to enjoy it without him.

He shrugged.

"Oh, you don't want to be mingling with the Dark One now, dearie."

She raised an eyebrow.

"And what have I been doing for the past few months, 'dearie'?" she retorted.

He grinned and giggled at that and replied in his high-pitched tone, "Well, I suppose if it would please you, I will accompany you outside."

She closed the distance between them and reached for his hand, those sapphires she called eyes staring up at him.

"It would please me very much, Rumplestiltskin."

And with that, she tugged him along, through the castle and out the door, her warm flesh never letting go of the shimmering pale scales and grotesque black fingernails that turned so many away from him in fear.

And it felt something like acceptance.

She finally let go of his hands when they arrived outside, and Belle reached down to cradle a mound of snow in her hands, the cold biting into her skin and causing an unpleasant tingle to her fingertips.

With a wave of his hand, Rumple conjured a pair of gloves and cloak for her and offered them to her, lightly chiding her that, "You will catch your death out here if you don't dress appropriately, sweetheart."

His mind went blank as he realized his slip. Dearie was safe. Dearie was what he called everyone. It wasn't so much a term of endearment as a light mocking name that he used universally. _Sweetheart,_ on the other hand, often implied affection. What if she thought he was overstepping?

But she was smiling that bloody smile of hers at him, her lips pressed together, cheeks full and smooth and a shade of pink from the cold.

"I like that," she murmured. "Sweetheart. Are you going to call all the people you deal with that from now on instead of 'dearie'?"

His heart leapt and he chuckled, his voice coming out a little huskier and lower than usual, and he cursed the effect that this woman was having on him as he replied, "No, just you, I think."

Another wry smile pulled at her lips as she responded, "Good."

And then she was turning away from him and with her newly gloved hands, reached down again to the snow.

Only, of course, the clumsy girl tripped and fell on her hands and knees into the deep white.

Almost instantly, Rumplestiltskin was at her side and guiding her back up.

"You really mustn't make such a habit of falling."

"Well, maybe I'm just hoping you'll keep catching me."

She had stood up fully again, and her head tilted up, gaze locked on his, as she replied. His arms grasped against her elbows tightly, tighter still as he processed the way she was looking at him—like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. Oh gods, did she actually genuinely care for him? Was she just being sassy or did she really mean what she just said? Or had he just imagined her saying that?

"I'll try harder next time," he croaked out.

She giggled, and then she was leaning into him, and his mind went into overdrive. Or blank. Or both. He wasn't really sure because suddenly Belle was everywhere and everything around him, and her hand was cupping his cheek and those lips he had dreamed about were pressing against his cheek and—Oh. She did care for him.

She pulled back as soon as she got there and smiled up at him shyly. There was a strange burning sensation lingering where her lips had touched him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was something…_magic._

Light magic of some sort, definitely. Someone as pure as Belle couldn't be capable of anything else. She was the bright, clean, white snow that surrounded the Dark Castle. She was the sun reflecting light onto the darkness of the moon. She was his flicker of flight in an ocean of darkness.

* * *

_My goodness, woobie puppy!Rumple is so much fun to write. What I was getting at at the end was that they had a little spark of a TLK there with Belle kissing him on the cheek. Because they're dorks in love and their love is powerful enough to start to break a curse from a little peck on the cheek. I love these crazy kids. _

_Anyway, I hope that was satisfactory. I have a few other prompts in my inbox to get around to, and if anymore of you have any prompts for me, I'd love to do it! Message me here or on Tumblr (link to my blog is in my profile). Reviews are appreciated. :)_


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